


Inaugural And Final

by tielan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-27
Updated: 2011-08-27
Packaged: 2017-10-23 02:54:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/245510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not the first time he'd imagined kissing Teyla.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inaugural And Final

**Author's Note:**

> I believe this was written for a prompt someone left me. However, I no longer remember the prompt or the prompter. This is a one-shot.

This wasn't the first time he'd imagined kissing Teyla.

John would deny that he'd thought about a million scenarios - quiet, private ones in his daydreams where he bent down and she lifted her face, or where she grabbed him and planted one on his lips, or even when they sat, shoulder to shoulder with Torran snoozing on his stomach, and just turned their heads and stretched their necks...

He just hadn't ever expected to actually kiss her, let alone in front of quite so many people.

It was mostly an accident.

Yes, he had his arms around her, and yes, he was holding her rather closer than he might have. But there were a lot of people out on the dance floor, shoulders and elbows jostling for space but not really minding who they bumped or were bumped by - not tonight.

On the crowded floor, amidst the laughing crowds, conversation was nearly impossible. But she'd lifted face to make a comment about the inaugural ball, and he'd lowered his head the better to hear her, and the shoulder had come out of nowhere, jostling them both.

John could have turned his cheek so his lips would only have brushed her jaw. He could have jerked back to avoid the gentle drag of satin-smooth cheek against five o'clock shadow. He could have drawn back and apologised and left it at that.

He didn't.

She was soft and still beneath his lips; the hand resting on his shoulder dug into his jacket for a moment, and he could tell her surprise in the way she caught her breath as he lingered longer than he should for an accidental brush of mouths.

It was the night and the opportunity. The crowds who weren't paying attention to one more man in black and one more woman in white. The honour of seeing a new President inaugurated and the relief of having saved his planet, his people, his home. The woman whose hands rested lightly on his jacket, but whose touch burned him with a fire he'd thought doused months ago but which he'd only recently learned had been merely banked.

In the back of his head, John knew he would blame it on the crowds, on the single beer he'd had at the reception, on the stranger whose apology was barely heard beneath the thundering pulse of his heart as he let his mouth linger where it had no right to stay, and knew that if she didn't push him away, he would take everything she allowed him tonight and live with the mornings that followed.

And then Teyla lifted her face into the kiss, opened her mouth in something that felt like a surrender - or even more terrifying: a challenge - and John cupped his hand lightly around the back of her neck and let himself slide into a sweet and terrible darkness.

 


End file.
